When a heart grows strong
by Schneephoenix
Summary: The world, in which they once lived, was forgotten and the one they lived in now was far enough away to feel free… for the moment. Sherlock/Molly Because its good for the heart.
1. Chapter 1

_Here we are. Just another piece of love. _

_You are welcome to correct every mistake. If there is someone interested in beta(ing) the next few parts (there is nothing much to come, but still) just mail me!_

_With lots of love, JJ xx_

**When A Heart Grows Strong**

**P a r t O n e**

She really tried to go on about her life. She tried hard. Doing the things she always did, same patterns, same routine, but she realized soon that living in a completely different reality as everybody else would not be easy. It felt wrong, outrageously wrong.

Watching everyone fight their own grieve, while not being able to comprehend the deep sadness to its fullest, not concerning Sherlock anyway… she knew grieve, but mourning a friend who committed suicide was something different. It is incomprehensible and unfair and wrong.

On the funeral she cried, out of simple helplessness. She needed to tell someone, but she couldn't, she mustn't, so she carried the weight of the truth with her. Every step, every move heavy with knowledge she wasn't able to share, not if she wanted to ensure the safety of not only Sherlock but of John, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson and by now surely her own.

So Molly remained in London for weeks to come, hiding herself even more than usually. Everyone believed to know the reason but no one came even close to what she really felt. It was the first rays of warm sunshine, which pushed her far enough to make a decision.

Molly Hooper left London and everyone was concert, deeply so. And for the first time in weeks, no month! For the first time they concerned themselves with something other than grieve. Seeing them care for her settled her decision.

They had begun to get over Sherlock's death, as was expected.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Here we go part two of my little drabble series ;) But before it starts I want to thank **__**daisherz365 for being my beta! It helps a lot. Thanke you :D **___

_**Ahh and yes I think I need to give a warning in OC because sometimes I need Sherlock to be a little less sherlockish... just sometimes :P**_

**P a r t T w o**

On the fifth of September, half a year after Sherlock's 'suicide', she had the first encounter with the 'dead' consulting detective after everything that happened. She was sitting on a bench, not far from her new flat, in a little park in Birmingham.

Molly had settled into her new life quite nicely. Her job was good, her flat acceptable. She had found a few people which were easy to talk to, twice a week she wrote a message to John and a letter to Mrs. Hudson once a month. Molly already invited both for a stay, knowing that neither would accept in near future.

So she set there, enjoying the sun, reading a book when suddenly someone set down beside her. She took a short glance, knowing instantly that she knew the person, though she never expected it to be Sherlock, because of that she didn't try to wrap her mind around the idea.

But something in her screamed to take a closer look and after another minute she hadn't the strength to resist any longer, and when she turned her head from her book to take a look, he already smirked at her.

"What is there to grin about?" She asked and closed her book. He had his hair cut short, glasses (Molly was sure those were a part of the cover for he had perfect eyesight). He wore a Shirt, a cardigan was laying above his leg, black jeans and she would have never believed it to be true, there were a real pair of green Chucks on his feet!

This strange version of Sherlock did not answer and to be true, Molly was somewhat afraid he would.

She had the chance to look at him because he would not stop looking at her. He was so young suddenly, looked not a day older than twenty-nine. What was his true age? She couldn't tell. Not right now.

All kinds of emotions rushed through her. Anger, hate, disappointment but there was also a feeling of relief. She wanted to scream at him for all he had done to her. She wanted to punch him in his face because he changed her whole life so dramatically, he has turned her life all over and she couldn't live with this immense burden of guilt. But still… he was alive.

"I do hate you, you know."

A tear run down her face and immediately Sherlock pulled her to his side. And they remained in their position, her head on his shoulder, until he began to laugh and she felt the need to join him. The world, in which they once lived, was forgotten and the one they lived in now was far enough away to feel free… for the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we go again :D**

**Nothing much to say. Have fun :)**

**P a r t T h r e e **

It was Christmas Eve of the same year when they met again. Molly was on her way home from Church. Snowflakes settled on her coat and in her open hair, she watched her steps and so she wouldn't see Sherlock standing in front of her apartment complex. He was leaning on the cold wall, his footsteps already vanished. She was rather surprised to see him.

This time he looked closer to his own self, she couldn't tell why, he didn't even wear his black coat, still there were glasses and short hair, a woollen hat but his eyes weren't smiling as they did the last time. This fact alone made the difference.

"Your back." she mumbled while she opened the front door to let him in. In silence they climbed the stairs and she let him into her flat. She actually had a small Christmas tree in the corner, as soon as the door was closed Sherlock whispered a "Merry Christmas", low and raspy as if he hadn't spoken for weeks which he probably hadn't.

Molly wanted to wrap him into a hug but she resisted, instead she shoved him in the direction of her couch and made him sit down, promising him a cup of tea and a warm meal. They ended up with two bottles of red wine and Crap Telly.

It was around 4 o'clock when Sherlock began to talk, when he slowly made himself comfortable with his own voice again. It was nothing important in the beginning but with each sentence he grew closer to the horror of the last couple of months. Another bottle of wine ended up in their bloodstream.

And while Molly didn't find the strength to stop crying, Sherlock could not stop talking, and he could not let go of her body because it was living flesh and warmth.

He needed her in this moment as he had never needed a person before. And while they fell asleep, hours later, curled into each other, drunk and naked and so very sure of the presence of each other, they both knew that there would be better days to come.


	4. Chapter 4

**P a r t F o u r **

Molly Hooper could never resist the smell of a beginning summer-rain. This short moment, when dirt becomes damp and hot concrete begins to smoke. The smell was close to perfect, nothing much was more satisfying than the smell in those few minutes before everything was soaking and wet and the air begins to cool down.

She couldn't resist, not even three days to her due date. Molly made her way outside, an umbrella in one hand and the other hand on her protruding belly. She breathed in deeply and the smile spread widely on her face, while at the same time a knot in her throat formed.

The young woman felt good in this small moment because for once something nice happened to her. For the short amount of time, not everything was against her. In the night she would be able to sleep better, because she could sleep with the window open and not be afraid of suffocating from heat.

Maybe god had finally forgiven her for the pain she inflicted on her friends. She surely could not. She had forgiven Sherlock. To forgive Sherlock was easy. To love Sherlock was easy. There was a time in the last year when she believed herself to have fallen out of love. Not having seen him for over six months had done that to her but the moment he came back into her life, all strange and lonely, everything came back with an unstoppable force.

He had left her pregnant on Christmas. And when he had come back two month later, shaking and wounded, she had not yet had a clue on what was going on. He stayed for a week and left, closer to his old self then all the year previously. Had he already known when she didn't?

Molly was afraid. She was lonely and who could tell if Sherlock was still alive? But even if he was, he probably would not want her anymore. He would call her stupid and irresponsible she was sure of that.

Molly Hooper could never resist the smell of a beginning summer-rain. That is way now, the pregnant woman stood in the pouring rain, suddenly crying, trying to keep herself standing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Because I have a great day so far and a long weekend ahead, I have got the new "chapter" a bit earlier as planned. I hope you like it :) **

**P a r t F i v e**

"It is been ten months Sherlock! Ten months."

"I am back now. I had to do things, you were aware of this, it is why we are in this situation in the first place. But I am, in fact, really sorry... would I have known... probably I would have considered... I don't..." He made a pause there. Could it be that he really was lost for words? Molly was irritated, not of the same reasons though.

"I thought you did know." She herself did not know whether she asked him a question or stated a simple thought which plagued her for months.

After this Sherlock was able to lock up for the first time in all those long minutes since he had his daughter in his arms.

"Why?" He was irritated in his own strange way and instantly he looked back down - fascinated.

"You know everything, all the time. I thought you might have figured it out long before I even had the idea that I possibly could be pregnant." Molly looked from her hands to the man sitting before her on an armchair, legs at his body, arms, which were holding Anne, in between.

"There were thinks I had to do Molly, I could not come earlier. You would not have understood."

And because Molly was afraid, she indeed would not understand, she did not ask. All she did was sitting down on the armrest, beside Sherlock, thinking about the last ten months, the small wonder beside her and the man she needed to love.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey there! _IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT_.

There is a S_**equel**_ to this SC-Series! It is called _**"Lonesome World"**_ and it's yes... I don't really know what it is but it is a not a SC-Story this time aaand it has a real Plot and all ;)

So when you like this one you will most like love the other one... at least I hope so :D :D

Things have changed, life has changed. Of course it has changed, the moment Sherlock jumped from that roof, it was clear that nothing would ever be as it once was. Molly has gotten used to that, she has learned to cope with it. New city, new people, bitter past, sad memories, it has all come to be okay.

But becoming a mother was another story. She has stopped sending letters (which have become less and less anyway), never told any of her old friends. Sherlock had advised her to secrecy, but did not really ask her for anything. After all she went nearly a year without telling someone she had become a mother from her old life, why should she have changed that after Sherlock's returning and quite sudden disappearing afterwards?

By now another year has come to pass and Molly wondered if there would ever be a change. Sometimes she wondered if her life was real at all. Sometimes she dived into those parts in her soul she herself could not really grasp, they made her sad and desperate, and in those hours she thought herself naive and she lost her understanding for Sherlock, her patience and her trust, he became a person she once knew but who was so far away from herself as her early childhood memories.

Nothing would ever be the same again. That on the other hand is for sure. And she could not stop the feeling in her heart; sometimes she hated herself for this because it made her so unbelievably weak. She was a prisoner of her own heart.

Now she was sitting on the floor of her living room, cross-legged, with a distant look in her eyes and a forced smile above her face. A tall, for a small child of almost one and a half years at least, tower of toy blocks, was growing before her, Anne was running through the room, searching for all the toy blocks which could be possibly hidden somewhere. For two weeks it was her assigned task to find everything Sherlock had hidden from her and she had developed a strange liking for this play... but did she really had any other hopes?

Sherlock has stayed for the last two weeks, never before he had stayed longer than a week at most, in the early hours of the morning he had left again. Because of this Molly was sure that there were no further toy blocks hidden.

With all her heart Molly hoped that soon, Sherlock would announce his task fulfilled. Even if she did had no hope what so ever that they could be all happy family afterwards, but she knew one thing for sure, it would come the day when Anne would remember a man, coming and going, and she would ask questions, questions Molly had no answer to.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey there ;) A bit longer than usual... This will be the last part for the moment. As soon as I have new ideas for certain situations I may write some more. It really is not impossible. But for the moment: Thank you all for reading and reviewing! It was lovely and it is so supporting! Thank You :D

(Just to remind you again! There is a called** Lonesome World**) :D !

On Anne's second birthday Molly had decided to go to the beach. A little Holiday, two nights away from what she called a life. Anne would thoroughly enjoy it, she was sure of it. The little girl loved water and she loved running around and seeing new things. She enveloped each new sensation with open arms.

So mother and daughter sat in the train. Anne played with a stuff animal while Molly was leafing through a newspaper she bought at the train station. It was a relatively short ride so Molly wasn't overly afraid that Anne would get bored or anything of the sort. She was calm and talked in her baby language of things Molly would never know.

Of course she should have considered that Sherlock was ahead of her plans, in this way she would not have been so surprised finding him at the small train station, waiting for her. But she didn't, so she nearly jumped out of her skin when he laid a hand on her shoulder and enveloped her into a hug she didn't anticipated.

The hug was for keeping appearance, he even laid an arm over her shoulder, walking her out of the station, carrying her suitcase, while she pushed the stroller. Someone should take a photo, Molly thought, because this was surely the first and the last time. He had a smile on his face, kept talking while she didn't listen. He reminded her of the first time they had met again, back in this park in Birmingham, with the blue pair of Jeans and the T-Shirt, sunglasses this time, hair shorter the ever.

"How do you always know?" she asked him when they made their way to the small "Bed and Breakfast" Sherlock had changed her bookings to. He asked her if she wanted the truth and she considered the illusion, because there were things she really didn't want to know anymore, not in this life, she somewhat had lost her sense for curiosity, at the end however she asked for the truth and he told her of how he was at her place two days ago for a shower.

In this moment she hated him because it proved to her how little control she had over her own life and how really unsafe she was in her own flat. Sherlock may have a key but never the less she did not hear a thing of the whole process, someone could easily come and take Anne and she would not notice a thing.

Three hours later however she loved him again with all of heart, with all she had to offer, because she was not alone anymore, he was playing with Anne... or what he considered was playing but really was teaching her stuff she would not comprehend until she was at least six years old. And she could lay down for a while and watch what she considered impossible every time she thought of it until the point came when she saw it with her own eyes once more.

Someone must have told him to not be his own self once he was around children and maybe he had taken it seriously. Or maybe he acknowledged that she was indeed his own daughter, whatever his understanding of this fact was.

Anyhow, the next day they spend at the beach and she told him to eat more because he was even thinner as he used to be and there would be nothing good coming from it and in her diary she would note that she hadn't realize this unhealthy development at the beach because no he would not strip down to his bathing suit the whole day but because he had slipped into her shower the previous night when Anne had fallen asleep all happy and content, seeking for her warmth and her body, making her happy and content.

And there would be ice cream and sun block and sand and salt and Sherlock had a present for Anne (which brought Molly to tears because she thought he wouldn't even know her birthday)and in the evening they watched Telly and Sherlock began to explain what had happened and he made a promise and Molly loved him as she never did before.


	8. Chapter 8

His understanding of being a father, of knowing that there was a child in this world that was his, a little girl no less... Maybe the whole situation would be clearer if the child were male, but it was a girl, named Anne who was two years and three month.

On certain days it bothered Molly deeply, not knowing about those things; not being able to just look him in the eyes and ask the questions that she so desperately needed to ask, but which just wouldn't pass her lips.

Even if she were able to vocalize the questions, Molly was certain she wouldn't get an answer or anything she would receive could hurt far too much.

So she waited. She remained silent. It was for the best really, but it didn't keep her from thinking about it once in a while.

Most of the time it was when Anne had done something outstanding; for instance, when she learned to walk or spoke her first words. All those milestones which meant so very much to Molly, but which will never mean anything to Sherlock, he just took them for granted. That was his way of dealing with the situation.

Molly loathed refering to her life as a situation. It was infuriating for her life; her small family was no simple situation. Her life was worth living, her daughter deserved a future. The sad thing was there were times when Molly didn't believe in those premises, because sometimes, she hated her life and sometimes, she saw no future.

* * *

The sequel "Lonesome World" is updated as well! Have fun ;)


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